70. Wynter #2
The smoke filled the car while fire licked at the windshield. Fear gripped my lungs, burning them raw. Smoke and gas drifted into my nose and down into my lungs, making it even harder to breathe.
I stumbled to my feet and reached for Bas. He hadn’t worn a seatbelt so I just wrapped my both hands around his bicep and I started pulling on him. He was much stronger and bigger than me, but giving up wasn’t an option. He would never leave me behind.
The fire was spreading way too quickly and Bas was too heavy for me to move quickly out of the range in case the car blew up. Frustrated tears pooled in my eyes and my sight turned blurry but I refused to stop.
“Please, Bas,” I whimpered. “Just don’t die on me,” I pleaded out of breath. Blood quickly soaked his dark hair and dread pooled in the pit of my stomach. Each step I took felt lead-heavy. But I kept going until we were a safe distance away.
I dropped down to my knees. My eyes searched over his body, alarmed by the amount of blood pooling around his head. I leaned over his face and felt the gentle breath sweep against my cheek. With shaky fingers, I brushed my fingers over the pulse on his throat.
“It’s there,” I breathed with a relieved sigh. The pulse was there.
I closed my eyes, overwhelming relief washed over me. And I prayed, promising God anything and everything. As long as Bas stayed with me.
My eyes stung and my chest felt tight, making each breath I inhaled hurt. I couldn’t live without this man on this earth. I might survive knowing he was somewhere on the planet, walking and breathing. Healthy and alive. But I wouldn’t survive his death.
“I love you, Bas,” I whispered, holding his head on my lap. “I have never stopped loving you. I promised I’d never leave you. I walked away but my heart stayed behind.” I bent my head and pressed a soft kiss on his forehead. “Please stay with me.”
He barely stirred and I froze, almost scared I imagined it. “Bas?” I rasped.
I held my breath, waiting for him to move again. Say something. Anything. When he didn’t, my heart sunk. Maybe I should keep talking? I didn’t know.
“Bas, please don’t die,” I pleaded softly, whispering against his clammy forehead. “I love you so damn much it hurts. There has been nobody since I walked away that day, and if you leave me, it’ll break me. Please just hold on. For me”
A loud screech of tires had me raising my head.
A black Land Rover. Another one. My eyes frantically searched around for the gun.
It lay discarded close to the burning car.
For a second, I remained immobile, hesitant about what I should do.
I didn’t want to leave Bas, vulnerable in his unconscious state.
Except, without a weapon, we’d both be vulnerable. I laid his head down on the cold dirt ground and I scrambled over to the burning car. I reached for it and it burned my palm. A small whimper sounded in my throat, but I ignored it.
I heard the door of a car shut behind me and I whirled around to find a woman stepping out of the black Land Rover. She had a fur coat on that came down to her knees and a matching fur hat.
She wore sunglasses and if the scenario was different, I’d swear she was an old Hollywood star.
The way she moved, with elegance and confidence.
I almost expected her to have one of those long skinny cigarettes in her fingers and bring it to her lips.
Three men that looked scary as fuck surrounded her, their eyes and guns on me.
I shuffled back to Bas’ immobile body, the handgun gripped between my fingers.
Putting my hand on his chest to ensure myself he was breathing, I raised my hand and pointed it at them.
“Stay where you are,” I demanded with the courage I didn’t exactly feel.
To my surprise, the woman stopped, then whispered something to her men.
“Wynter Star Volkov.”
The woman’s voice was low and soft. And most of all creepy.
She took her sunglasses off and her eyes met mine. They were dark brown, but something in her eyes scared me even worse than in Gio’s. She took a step, then another.
I shot a warning shot, just about grazing her stupid animal killing fur hat. “Stop right there,” I growled.
“You look like your grandmother,” she said in her soft voice that was fucking creepy. “Winter was my whole world. The only good thing in my world.”
I stiffened. Was she-
No, she couldn’t be. This woman with an olive skin tone couldn’t be Russian. Maybe she worked for Pakhan.
“Who are you?” I bit out.
“I’m your great-grandmother.” Her eyes darted to my husband. “Sofia Catalano Volkov. And you, my child… You’ll be coming with me.”
“The fuck I will,” I spat back. “You shot at us. My husband! And I’m not your fucking child.”
“Do you know who I am?” she asked, ignoring my outburst.
“Duh, you just told me.”
She chuckled, her laugh creepy. “I was the first payment in my family to the Belles and Mobsters’ fucked up arrangement, sold to the notorious Ivan Petrov.
His Pakhan saw me and took me for himself.
I went through hell, but I came out on top.
” I held my breath, unsure where this was going.
I never heard of the arrangement she was talking about.
“I made the Pakhan fall in love with me. And then I had my daughter. She was my whole world.”
I swallowed. “That has nothing to do with me. Or my husband.”
Another creepy laugh. “But it does. Because it is men like your husband and like your uncle that play with lives. It is men like them who have taken everything from me. I will take everything from them. But I need someone of my blood to take my place. Rule this world and make these men regret ever taking my baby from me.”
“W-where is your Pakhan?” I asked, something in my subconscious tickled, nudging at me. Except my headache was becoming worse.
Her cackle hurt my ears. The woman had to be crazy. A certified nutcase.
“Pakhan?” Her shrill voice was making my head hurt. “I’m the fucking Pakhan. I rule it all.”
My mouth might have dropped to the ground. Or maybe I hit my head harder than I thought.
“Aim guns on him and shoot,” she ordered softly in Russian. “You hit her and I’m going to have you and your entire family gutted.”
Jesus, she was a nut job!
They raised their guns. I didn’t think, just acted as I threw myself over Bas’ body and covered him with mine.
If they couldn’t shoot me, it was the best defense.
I heard the click before the bullets started flying. But they never came. I kept my husband’s body covered, glancing over my shoulders. It was only then I registered the roar of an engine and screech of tires.
“Just hang on,” I whispered in my husband’s ear. “Reinforcements are here.”
At least I hoped to God they were. Whoever it was had the Russians running. They killed one, wounded another but the crazy woman made it all the way to her car.
That was when I saw it and I could have cried from the relief that slammed into me.
Dante and Priest were here. Thank God, they tracked the phone.
“You’ll get your last rites now, bitch,” I hissed.